


First and Last

by SerChristoph



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-22 20:43:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19999390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerChristoph/pseuds/SerChristoph
Summary: First kisses don’t always lead to lasting romance. Sometimes last kisses aren’t any better. Two-shot prequel to ‘One’s an Inquisitor, the other a Champion’.





	1. Student and Teacher

**Student and Teacher**

“To the Valo-Kas!”

A great cheer went up round the campfire as a plethora of mugs and flagons thrust into the air, ale spilling haphazardly about. The talking and laughing of more than two dozen qunari drowned out the crackling of the fires under a clear night sky. The band cavorted about, celebrating yet another victorious battle. A host of beasts slain, a poor village saved from ruin, and a sizeable bag of coin duly awarded. Spirits were high.

Herah was laughing and joking amongst them all. She’d only been adventuring with the others for a few months by now, barely a fully grown woman. Though she stood near seven feet tall with lean muscles, she was nary a babe compared to the rest of the group. That didn’t deter her though, in fact if anything it spurred her on to train harder, fight faster and learn greater. If she was to be a mercenary, she would have herself be a great one.

“Herah!” The amicable call came from Asaara as she sauntered over, drinks in hand. The older woman was a much more experienced mercenary, firmly in her prime. At a glance the two seemed to be polar opposites, where Herah’s skin was grey, Asaara’s was bronze, where Herah had horns that swept back and up smoothly, Asaara had a set that wound round in a tight coil like a ram. The younger looked up to the older, bronzed qunari, and somehow in all of the chaos of a mercenary’s life, Asaara had seen something in the young Herah and had taken the girl under her wing.

“Here! Get this down!” Asaara thrust a fresh flagon into Herah’s hands with a wide smirk.

Always ready for a challenge, the grey skinned qunari took it readily and gulped down the golden liquid with vigour. A little too quickly she realised as she found herself spluttering half of her draught onto the grass.

Asaara merely laughed and clapped Herah on the back with a strong arm. “That’s my girl. You’ve still much to learn I see.”

Herah didn’t say anything, still spluttering away as she tried to hide her embarrassment behind her flagon.

“Don’t worry, we’ll make a true warrior out of you yet!” The bronze-skinned woman swore proudly.

“I’m already a warrior Asa!” Herah protested once she regained her composure.

Asaara leaned in close to look deep in Herah’s eyes, studying the younger woman with dark yellow eyes for a long moment. “Nope.” She declared simply, “You’re a brawler, a fighter at best. You fight on rage and emotion. That’ll do the trick in many a fight, but not all. You’ve still got much to learn, kid.”

“I’m not a child!” Herah scowled at her idol in annoyance, more than a little bit stung. “I could defeat anyone here, even you, even Shokrakar!”

“Bold words.” A new, deeper voice entered the fray as their fearless leader, Shokrakar herself, strode up to the pair. The Valo-Kas leader was monumental even by qunari standards. While everyone in the band had many a scar to speak of, Shokrakar seemed to be nothing but muscle laced in scars. Nary a clean patch of skin was on show, lending the oldest of the qunari a fierce, menacing air. “Care to back them up?”

Herah audibly gulped as she shrank under Shokrakar’s gaze, her eyes darting about for an escape and her mind desperately cursing the amount of ale she’d already had.

Asaara, for her part, merely laughed. “I think our young Pup’s just had a little too much to drink.” She put a companionable arm on their leader’s shoulder, “I doubt there’s any need for a beheading, this time at least.”

Herah’s eyes widened in alarm.

Shokrakar’s piercing gaze never left Herah. The younger qunari genuinely liked her leader, she wouldn’t follow her into battle otherwise, but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t awfully intimidated by her at times. The stories alone that she’d heard about the grizzled warrior, Maker, many of them beggared belief.

“You’re on watch, Pup.” Shokrakar commanded. “Alone. Now.”

“But- I-” Herah stammered out in surprise, unable to find a response.

“That’s an order, Pup. _Now_.” Shokrakar growled, narrowing her gaze menacingly.

Herah made a hasty retreat as she stumbled to find her weapon to stand with her on a lengthy shift. Asaara merely chuckled at her back.

“She’s got much to learn.” The scarred leader muttered with a shake of her head as she watched the young qunari scamper away.

“Aye,” The bronzed woman nodded in agreement with a fond smile, “But still, she’s come along well already. She’s more capable than I was at that age.”

Shokrakar snorted with a shake of her head. “You’re lucky to survive this long then. You coddle the girl too much.”

“Are you truly telling me you don’t see it?” Asaara questioned with a quirked eyebrow.

“I see a young fool who’ll be lucky to see a couple more winters at most, unless she wises up soon.” The grizzled qunari scratched at a couple of her many scars idly.

Asaara shook her head at her companion. “She’ll be something special one day. I’d wager both my horns on it.”

xxx

Herah was in some way grateful to be given the night watch alone. While it was typically the most boring job in any band of travellers, it also meant that one could be left to their own thoughts. The young qunari took to gazing at the stars, a beautiful, clear night that seemed so inviting. Sometimes she wondered what life would be like not as a mercenary, but something … different, more docile perhaps. Such fantasies never lasted long. Much of her life had been in service to the Valo-Kas, she couldn’t seriously imagine her life without them. All the allies and friends she’d made, she’d never find their like again in all of Thedas.

“How’s the watch going, Pup?”

The sudden noise startled Herah who picked up her weapon, ready and willing to skewer the newcomer, before belatedly realising it was only Asaara. The older qunari laughed at Herah’s jumpiness for a good while before settling down on the log next to the younger woman.

“Don’t tease me like that, Asa.” Herah breathed in frustration.

“Ah, but you make it so easy, girl.” The bronzed woman smiled wide with a chuckle. “You need to learn to focus more.” She prodded Herah right between the eyes.

Herah scowled back. “I can focus just fine.” To prove her point she turned her gaze out toward the vast dark emptiness before them, silver eyes keenly scanning every nook and cranny.

“So I see.” Was all Asaara said with another chuckle.

“What are you doing here anyway? I thought Shokrakar wanted me on watch alone?”

“Who says I’m watching anything.” Asaara winked at her protégé with a conspiratorial smirk. “Besides, what Shokrakar doesn’t know, Shokrakar doesn’t get angry about.”

Herah couldn’t help but let loose a little smile at that.

Asaara reached from behind the log to produce an elegant bottle of wine. “I thought we could finish the party here.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be the responsible one, mentor?” Herah quizzed with a smirk.

“Indeed I am. That’s why I’ll be drinking most of this, to keep the evils of drink out of your innocent grasp.” With that, she swiftly un-stoppered the bottle and took a long chug. When she came up for air she added. “After all, Maker only knows what you’d get up to when properly drunk. Hell, maybe I should make you finish this off just so I can see what you’re really like when properly sauced.” She finished with a glinting smirk as she passed Herah the bottle.

The younger qunari sloshed the wine a little before drinking, scowling slightly. “You talk like I’ve never been drunk before.”

“You haven’t, not really. Not by the feeble standards of a mercenary anyway. Just for once, it’d be interesting to see what you’d be like when you really let your hair down.”

“I’m on watch, remember.” Herah put to her mentor with a smirk.

“Oh, really? Then you must have _watched_ that suspicious looking man creep all the way up to the camp behind you then?”

Herah’s head spun around on Asaara’s words, she’d almost fully leapt to her feet as well before realising that once again she’d been played. Asaara’s laughing took a while to die down. It was amazing that she didn’t wake any of the others.

“I wish you wouldn’t do that, Asa.” Herah muttered, annoyed.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Asaara didn’t look the least bit sorry. “It’s just too easy with you, Pup.” Her laughing finally gave way, back to that smile that made Herah positive that Asaara was up to something. “You need to lighten up a bit, relax. That’s your problem.”

“I don’t have a problem.” Herah muttered, more to herself than Asaara.

“There! That’s exactly it.” Asaara pointed an accusing finger at Herah. “That’s the sound of a woman with a problem, Pup.”

“You’re insane.”

“Maybe, but we’re talking about you here, not me here, Pup.” Asaara continued unabashed. “What we need is to get you to loosen up a bit, enjoy yourself some more.”

“I’m perfectly happy!” Herah didn’t even sound convincing to herself.

“Hush now, Pup.” Asaara put her arm around the younger qunari as she gazed off into the distance, mind already working on a plan. “This needs more than drink. No, what we need … is to get you a bed.”

Herah stared at Asaara for a few moments, trying to process what she’d just said. “A bed?”

“Aye, a bed, with someone in it, of course.”

“No! No! No, we are- _I_ am not doing … that.” Herah protested, getting up from the log and putting some distance between her and her mentor. The younger qunari’s cheeks in flames already.

“Aha!” Asaara was up in a flash, pointing a smirk at Herah as though she’d been caught red handed. “That’s exactly what you need. Those rosy cheeks don’t lie.”

Herah immediately turned away and tried to force herself to calm down.

“But who? Of course, that is the question, isn’t it?” Asaara continued behind the grey skinned woman as though deliberating over what colour to paint one of the wagons. “How about Ashaad?”

“No!”

“Hmm, alright, alright. What do you say to Kaaris then? He’s a sensitive sort isn’t he, likes poetry.”

“Asaara …” Herah droned to no avail, burying her face in her hands, praying to die right then and there.

“Ashaad Two?”

“No one! I don’t want to do that … _That_ , with any of them!”

“Ok, ok. That’s alright, we still have options.” Asaara was smiling like this was the most natural and wholesome conversation to have in the world. “We just have to think a bit more … creatively is all.”

“I don’t want to hear it.” Herah turned fully away from the bronzed qunari and made to walk away. Asaara wasn’t having any of it though and quickly jumped up and swept a strong arm around the younger warrior, steering her back.

“Come on, Herah. You don’t want to spend some quality time with any of our little entourage? That’s fine, that’s fine. We can work with that.”

Herah looked away and she bit her tongue to keep herself from saying what she truly wanted to say.

“We should be getting pretty close to Markham soon. What say you – when you get a chance – sneak into the city and spend a little time at the local, ah, establishment.”

“The brothel?” Herah fixed Asaara with an incredulous look, not quite believing the conversation she was having.

“That’s the one! All you do is walk in and tell them what you want. Simple as can be.”

Herah sighed heavily. “That … that won’t work, Asaara.”

“Why not? They do serve women you know, and qunari. Trust me. I’ve been the odd time myself.” She winked playfully at Herah. “Are you worried they won’t have what you like, is that it? What do you like anyway?”

Something about the way Asaara’s smile turned from playful and mischievous to predatory and inquisitive made Herah swallow thickly.

“I … I don’t know.” Herah attempted to duck the question feebly.

“Everyone _knows_ , Herah. Come on now, don’t be shy. I won’t judge you, I promise. Unless … you’re not into dwarves are you?”

“No, no, not- not that.” Herah found herself glancing around, looking for an easy way – any way would do – to escape this line of questioning.

“Don’t get me wrong, a dwarven man can be as good as any other, but those beards are rather … long and distracting.” Asaara shrivelled her nose a little in disgust before returning to a smirk again. “It’s ok to say humans you know. Sure, they can give us a hard time, but then … they can give us a _hard_ time!” She punctuated her laughter with a solid punch to Herah’s shoulder.

“I really should be-” Before Herah could make her escape, Asaara recovered from her laughter and grasped the younger qunari by both shoulders.

“Wait a minute, I’ve been thinking about this all wrong. You’re not into the ladies, are you, Herah?”

The slight pause and the increasingly red cheeks gave Asaara all the confirmation she needed.

“Ho, ho, Herah! Now we’re getting somewhere, Pup!”

“We really aren’t.” Herah wanted to make another escape again, but a part of her was overjoyed and relieved that Asaara hadn’t left herself.

“What do you think of Katoh?” Asaara continued, unabashed. “I don’t know if she’d be interested, but it’s worth a shot. There’s also plenty of women at those brothels you know. I’m sure one or two of them would be willing to help you out.”

“Asaara, stop!”

Asaara gasped in apparent realisation. “It’s Shokrakar isn’t it? That’s who you want, who you’re secretly pining for.” Her barely contained snort gave her away.

“Now you’re just being ridiculous.” Herah had to chuckle at that one.

“Not at all, you’ve just got to impress her that’s all.”

Herah scoffed. “That will _never_ happen.”

“It will one day, Pup.” Asaara threw a companionable arm around Herah, her tone reasonably serious for the first time that night. “You’ve just got to believe in yourself and keep going, no matter what comes. Keep getting stronger and faster and smarter – Hell, you’re already pretty smart – and … and how did this turn into a damned inspirational speech?”

Herah chuckled. “Does this mean you’re going to stop being ridiculous now?”

“For tonight at least.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“Ok, maybe I was going a bit too far with all the teasing there.”

Herah raised an eyebrow to say ‘you think?’

“But I mean it when I say you could do to have some more fun, Pup. You could do to relax some more. It doesn’t have to be a one night and never again sort of thing.” Asaara’s eyes turned up to the stars as she said that, Herah found herself watching the bronzed qunari intently. “It could turn out to be something more. Something you never imagined even. It might turn out to be the best thing that ever happened to you. If you see a chance for something meaningful, I say take it.”

Herah’s throat was completely dry when Asaara lowered her gaze to smile softly at the younger qunari. Though the bronzed woman was smiling, there something so sad in her eyes that Herah wanted to hold the other woman and never let go.

She leaned forward, and with mind completely lost in those eyes, she kissed Asaara.

It took barely a moment for the older qunari to register the kiss and respond. She pushed Herah back. Herah froze, her mind was in complete shock as to what she’d just done. Asaara’s face was in shock also. Then it slowly morphed into a sad form of understanding, a pity that made Herah feel ever so small.

“Pup- Herah, I’m sorry I … I can’t …” Asaara began but didn’t finish. Her expression was uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry, I- I should finish my watch.” Was all Herah could say, her eyes darting anywhere but her mentor.

She quickly moved past Asaara, the bronzed qunari let her go. Herah took to patrolling the other side of camp, chest clenched in a steel vice.

It was a long night after that.

xxx

The next morning came all too soon. Herah’s feet were throbbing hard. She’d paced around the camp so many times. Yet she hadn’t even noticed the pain, her mind was a hurricane of thoughts. When she’d been relieved by the morning watch, she darted straight for her tent before any of the others woke, particularly Asaara.

When she emerged again, Herah kept her eyes alert for her bronze skinned mentor. She wasn’t sure what would happen next. Would she be humiliated? Kicked out of the clan? She shivered at the prospect. Where would she go? What else could she do? The Valo-Kas were all she had. Herah prayed that the others wouldn’t find out what she’d done the night before.

Twirling horns bobbing along to her side made her eyes widen. Asaara was there, striding towards Shokrakar’s tent.

Herah’s heart skipped in alarm.

Then, the older qunari spotted Herah. She threw the younger qunari a look, something that Herah couldn’t define, and started to turn, in her direction.

Herah nearly bolted in the opposite way, bowling over Ashaad Two in the process. Apologising profusely, Herah glanced back. Asaara wasn’t making to follow. She merely watched the grey skinned qunari make an even bigger fool of herself with a guarded look. Then, she turned her back and headed off towards their leader.

Such was the way of things for much of the next week. Whenever Asaara appeared, Herah made excuses, suddenly found important work to be done and all in all turned tail and ran. She only once managed to actually speak a handful of words to the grey skinned qunari.

“Herah!” Asaara called as she jogged up to join her student on the trail. The entire band was moving to a new camp site. It was a regular occurrence that kept them from the risk of conflict with the locals.

“Wait up, Pup, we need to-”

“Pup!” Shokrakar shouted out from up ahead. “Got smoke on the horizon, go check it out!”

“Aye, aye, ma’am!” Herah dutifully ran off as ordered, more than happy for the excuse, leaving a sighing Asaara in her wake.

When they finally set up camp after a long day’s hike, Asaara tried again.

“Pup, we need to talk.” She started as she approached Herah. The younger qunari was in the process of putting up her tent, her back to the bronzed woman. Herah froze before turning. Asaara could see the hard swallow in her throat.

“Listen, Herah, about the other-”

“Bandits!” The cry came from the other side of camp and immediately the shouts of battle and the clang of steel drowned out whatever else Asaara had planned to say.

Herah immediately picked up her sword and leapt into the fray to help.

With an irritated growl, Asaara followed suit.

When they’d cleared out the bandits – and moved camp to make sure they couldn’t be taken by surprise once more – Asaara tried again.

“Pup, listen.” She started as she approached the younger qunari, rubbing at her eyes in frustration. The grey skinned woman was sat by her tent, sharpening her blade in the light of the nearby camp fire. She made no effort to run this time, merely laid her sword down beside her and awaited whatever words her mentor had to say.

“I know you-”

“Asaara!” The call, from Shokrakar this time, put a halt to things. “I want you on watch tonight. Don’t want any more bandits creeping up on us, and you’ve got sharper eyes than most.”

Asaara’s eye twitched. “I- Can I just-”

Shokrakar gave her a dangerous look. “ _Now_ , Asaara. I don’t want a repeat of earlier.” The tone in her voice left no room for argument or compromise.

“Aye, aye, chief.” Asaara murmured without enthusiasm and set off on her watch with a sigh.

It wasn’t until the seventh day after ‘that night’ that Asaara finally managed to pin the younger qunari down.

xxx

“Wake up, Pup. Rise and shine.” Asaara murmured in a singsong voice as she stood over the slumbering younger qunari.

Herah grumbled unintelligibly as she started to wake. Her silver eyes widened as she realised that her mentor was standing right over her, between her and the only exit.

“You’ve been avoiding me, Pup.” Asaara folded her arms with a dour expression.

Herah gulped, “Asa, I- I’m sorry I-”

“Get up.” Asaara shook her head with a sigh and reached for the younger’s blade.

For a horrid moment, Herah feared that she was about to strike her down. Instead, the bronze skinned woman chucked the weapon at the grey.

“Come on.” Then she turned and left the tent.

Tentatively, Herah followed, great sword in sweaty hand. Asaara was just outside, standing in the centre of their little training circle, arms folded sternly. A patch of dry, cracked mud really. The sun was barely rising in the day. Only a handful of the others had risen yet and ambled about lazily as they saw to their morning routines.

Asaara picked up a short sword and shield from a nearby rack. “About time you had some more practice. You’ve neglected your training, Pup.” She scolded.

Herah set herself in mind and body and paced into the ‘ring’. She took up her warrior stance, ready to begin.

“Right foot further forward.” Asaara barked, expression unreadable.

Herah duly adjusted.

“Not that far.”

Another re-step. Herah scowled, her footwork was never wrong.

“Better.” Asaara smiled for the first time, her teeth glinting like a predator, “And … begin!”

The two women launched at each other. It was a dance the pair both knew well, they’d done this a hundred times before. Yet even from the outset, Herah could feel something was off, wrong. Asaara was holding back, toying with her. The grey skinned qunari growled and doubled her efforts, forcing the mentor to step up.

“Good!” Asaara enthused with a laugh as she danced around Herah’s attacks.

Herah merely scowled in reply, she still felt her mentor wasn’t giving it her usual efforts. Normally she’d fire everything she had at the younger qunari and expected Herah to match it blow for blow or else receive a beating. She was definitely up to something. Maybe this was strange payback for ‘that night’. Herah kept her guard up. She followed all the training and experience she had gained over the years as the two women exchanged blows.

“Why are you holding back?” Herah growled in frustration.

“Funny, I was gonna ask you the same thing.”

“I’m not,” Herah grunted as she deflected a blow, “ _I’m_ the one fighting.”

“Really? Seems like you’re running to me.” Asaara levelled a knowing smirk at her student.

Herah merely shook her head at her mentor’s cryptic nonsense. She nearly stumbled over a rock embedded in the ground. A rookie mistake she hadn’t made for years.

“Don’t be ashamed of what you are, Herah.” Asaara smiled, “If you never learn anything else from me, learn that at least.”

“I’m not ashamed.” Herah furrowed her brow as she blocked a jab for her head.

“Oh really? Then why are you running?”

“I’m not running!”

Herah hefted a mighty overhead swing. Asaara caught it with her shield and the two warriors were locked in a contest of sheer strength.

“Then how about this,” Asaara smirked through gritted teeth, “You put me in the dirt, and I’ll let you have your wicked way with me.”

“Stop toying with me!” Herah growled, animalistic. She punted her mentor back with a kick to the abdomen. “You think this is just some game?”

“You’ve turned it into a game, Pup.” Asaara twitched her sword as one would a disapproving finger. “I’m just playing the cat to your mouse.”

“Shut up!”

“Why? You’ve never wanted that before. What’s different now?”

“Just shut up!” Herah threw all her might into her downward strike, it missed completely and ploughed into the mud with a heavy blow.

Asaara danced around Herah’s side as the younger qunari struggled to bring her blade free. The grey skinned woman received a metallic spank on the rear and a chuckle for her trouble.

“Too reckless, Pup. Focus.”

Herah nearly roared in her frustration, swinging another heavy arc that missed wildly. This time, she received a knock to the back of the head.

“If I can get under your skin so easily, you’ll never beat anyone.” Asaara warned, tone more serious all of a sudden.

Swallowing the bitter pill with a grimace, Herah realised she was right. She forced herself to calm down. Guarding under the fast blows of Asaara’s sword, Herah took a series of deep breaths and kept her anger in check. Blocking her mentor’s attacks became easier, more natural.

“Much better.” Asaara smiled, without the teasing this time. Then she stepped forward and attacked again. “You can’t avoid me forever, Herah.”

“I … I didn’t know what else to do.” Herah strained out unwillingly, keeping to the defence as Asaara pressed the advantage. “I’m sorry.”

“You never need to apologise to me, Pup.” Asaara smiled, barely panting despite the elevated pace she was now setting. “You think you’re the only idiot who’s ever kissed the wrong person?”

Herah didn’t say anything to that. Her cheeks blossomed into colour as she made a few quick jabs to break up the assault.

Asaara sighed, “Stop being so embarrassed, Pup. You think Shokrakar or anyone else gives a damn who you want between the sheets?”

“I care what you think.” Herah’s voice was so quiet it was almost lost to the clanging of steel.

“Well I …” Asaara began with a smirk before she ducked low and aimed a kick for Herah’s legs, sending her tumbling to the floor. Before Herah could even think of getting back up, Asaara’s blade was at her throat.

“I think that you’re being an idiot, but only because you’re letting this get to you. You want women? Fine. You want human or elf, even dwarf? Fine. You want to go fuck a dragon atop a mountain? Go for it.”

Herah couldn’t help but chuckle as she lay back in the dirt. Asaara tossed her blade aside and kneeled over her with a smirk.

“Just keep going till you find what you want, what you _really_ want. Trust me, you’re not the first to get sweet on their teacher, you won’t be the last.”

Asaara’s face turned solemn for a moment, “I’m sorry I can’t give you what you want, but know that that doesn’t change a damn thing for us. You’ll find what you’re looking for after you’ve long forgotten about me.”

“I could never forget about you.” Herah frowned as she sat up.

“Well of course you couldn’t,” Asaara winked, “But you’ll find someone who wants you just the same one day, I’d bet my life on it.”

She offered her hand to Herah who took it with a smile and some humility as she rose.

“Thanks.” Herah smiled as dusted herself off.

“What for? You like getting beaten black and blue do you?” Asaara smirked, “You’re a kinky one, aren’t you, Pup?”

“No I mean,” Herah’s cheeks blossomed and she laughed in spite of herself, “I mean thanks for not- for not giving up on me.”

“Alright, alright. Enough with being an idiot, Pup.” Asaara threw her arm around Herah’s neck and brought her into a headlock, rubbing at her head with knuckles. “You’re supposed to be smarter than that. You’ve still got a lot to learn I see.”

Herah broke free from her mentor and gave her a shove. “As long as you’ll teach me, mentor.”

“Well, I’ve got nothing better to do I guess.” Asaara threw Herah a wink and put her arm around the grey skinned qunari’s shoulders.

Herah felt all the tension she’d been holding onto for the last week fall on the dirt ground behind her.

“Besides,” Asaara started again, smirk creeping back mischievously, “That wasn’t actually a bad kiss you gave me.”

“Asa …” Herah sighed.

“Was that you’re first? If so, it was pretty good actually.”

Herah merely shook her head with a weary sigh. She smiled and held her head high, even as her cheeks bloomed in colour once more. The student and teacher carried onwards, side by side, closer and stronger than ever before.


	2. A Little Cloak and Dagger

**A Little Cloak and Dagger**

“Aha! Another victory for me!” Isabela’s triumphant cry rose above the cacophony of the Hanged Man’s patrons as she slammed her cards on the table.

Simultaneous groans from all else around the table. Varric shook his head wearily, Fenris swore in Tevene, Anders rubbed at his eyes with a sigh, and Merrill merely pouted.

Marian threw her cards in with a frustrated flourish. “When are you gonna give us a chance, Izzy?”

The pirate smirked as she reached over to pull the small pile of coins over towards her. Anders watched the gold and silver pieces get further away from him with a mournful expression.

“I’m always willing to give you a chance, Hawke. Just say the word and I’ll buy us a room.” She winked lecherously at the Champion.

“You could afford to buy the whole bloody tavern at this rate.” Marian eyed the pirate’s glittering hoard.

“Not before I do, Rivaini.” Varric warned Isabela with a stern expression. “I’ve got plans for this place when I get the funds together. I’m serious, keep your hands off.”

“But Varric, we could buy the Hanged Man together, become business partners!” Isabela put an arm around the dwarf.

The dwarf however just regarded her with wary eyes. “Sure, then you’ll take the profits and jump on the first ship bound for Antiva.”

“Oh Varric, I’d never run out on you.” Isabela drawled with a smirking pout.

“I’m saying nothing.” Marian drawled herself with a slight smirk at the pirate.

The pirate scowled in annoyance. “Hey! I came back didn’t I? I don’t know if you remember but there was an army of angry qunari after my head at the time.”

“She did come back, Hawke. She even risked her life to make it all right again” Merrill piped up, cradling her drink carefully.

“There you see,” Isabela withdrew her arm from the dwarf and flung her other one around the elf, “Kitten gets it.”

“Though it was your decisions that brought the qunari to the city in the first place.” Fenris intoned with a bored drawl as he took a swig of his ale.

“What is this, abuse the Rivaini day?” The pirate demanded with narrowed eyes. “Or are you all just bitter because you suck at cards.”

“Guilty as charged.” Marian toasted Isabela with a smirk, draining her flagon. She eyed the empty container with contempt and stood from the table.

“Giving up already, Hawke?” The pirate commented with a smirk as she shuffled the cards for a fresh round.

“Not at all. Another round?” Moving around the table, Marian swiped a few coins from Isabela’s winnings. “Izzy’s buying.”

“Hey! That gold’s yours no longer!” The pirate objected but made no move to get her earnings back.

“You’re the only one with any money left.” Marian smirked as she tossed the coins in her hand. Laughing as the Rivaini flipped her off, the Champion made her way over to the bar.

Made to wait a while as the lone bartender sauntered his way between several customers, pouring and delivering drinks casually, Marian took to canvassing the room. There were many of the usual patrons she recognised, mostly from Lowtown’s local workers. A naïve few made to look back at the fabled Champion, whether out of suspicion, lust or just plain curiosity, none it fazed her. She’d dealt with hundreds of lowlifes since moving to the City of Chains, she’d deal with a hundred more just as easily.

She sensed a figure sidle up beside her. The Champion rolled her eyes as she casually reached for the hilt of a dagger she kept at her back. The figure dared to reach forward and intercept her hand. Spinning round with a fist, Hawke froze. Seeing dark green eyes, auburn hair and pointed ears, a very familiar face.

“Easy there, tiger.” The smuggler Athenril murmured casually at the Champion, rolling her keen gaze over the tavern.

“Athenril? What are you doing here?” Marian lowered her fist after a moment, blinking at the smuggler in surprise. The elf had never frequented the Hanged Man before, not for all Hawke had known. In fact, it had been many a year since Hawke had seen the elf. Suffice it to say they didn’t part on the best of terms.

“Just out conducting a bit of business, you know how it is. In fact, I was hoping I’d run into you.” Athenril murmured conspiratorially, still snapping her eyes around, distinctly looking as though anywhere else in Thedas would be more comfortable for her.

“Right …” Marian eyed the elf dubiously.

The smuggler grasped the Champion by the wrist and pulled. “Come on then.”

Marian resisted for a moment, staying put at her place by the bar. Athenril levelled her large eyes at the human with a strange look. Then she sighed and turned to fully face the Champion.

“I’m not here to kill you Hawke, if that’s what you’re thinking. If I was, I could have poisoned any one of the last few rounds you’ve had tonight.”

“That’s not what I- What do you want?”

“Not here.” The elf said, by her tone, Marian knew she wouldn’t be getting anything else out of unless she played along.

“Alright, alright, fine.” Hawke held a hand up in surrender with a sigh.

A smile finally wormed its way onto Athenril’s lips, though it quickly fell back into a scowl. She dropped her grip on the Champion’s other arm instantaneously. “Come.” She said again and without another word, made for the door.

Marian knew that she probably shouldn’t follow, whatever it was the elf wanted was probably skirting the borders of legality. That and the fact that she had effectively dropped out of the smuggler’s little group with nary a word had likely not endeared the elf to the human. Still, Marian was mightily curious to know just what her old employer wanted.

The Champion glanced back at her friends who were all immersed in another round of funding Isabela’s drinks. It didn’t seem like any of them had noticed Hawke’s little exchange with the smuggler. Sighing in spite of herself, Marian turned to leave.

Following the redhead out into the night, Marian kept her wits about her as she was led into the myriad of backstreets and alleys that made up Lowtown.

“Mind telling me where you’re taking me?” The Champion asked in a low tone, not at all eager to announce her presence to any thieves lurking in the shadows.

_Though perhaps I should be more worried about the one that I’m following._

Athenril didn’t say anything. Soon, they reached a small courtyard, blocked in behind a series of factory walls. The only ways in and out were straight up twenty feet or so towards the open sky or back through the way they came.

Finally, the elf stopped and turned to face the human. “I have a job for you, Champion.”

Marian sighed, “You know I don’t do that kind of work anymore Athenril.”

“It’s just one job, one simple job and then I’m out of your hair forever.”

“I know how this works. You say that, then one job becomes two, then three, then twelve.” Marian crossed her arms as she narrowed her gaze at the elf.

Getting a better look at Athenril now, she was somewhat surprised how little the redhead had changed in the past, what was it, six years or so since they’d parted ways. The elf was still wearing her signature leather armour with strips crisscrossing over each other in a busy lattice pattern. Her arms still sported those strange, long tattoos of blue patterns that Marian could never quite figure out, though she’d seemed to pick up a few new scars that the Champion could see. All in all, the elf looked good. The faint scowling expression on the smugglers face was definitely a new addition, though Marian reckoned that she probably deserved that.

“Only one, I give you my word – if that has any worth to you – if it doesn’t, how about a nice bag of coin to go with it?” Athenril pledged, her tone without heat, yet Marian couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something she was missing. “Besides, I think you owe me one little favour, Hawke.”

The Champion couldn’t help but avert her eyes under the elf’s fierce gaze, nor could she deny her words.

With a sigh, Marian relented. “What do you need me to do?”

xxx

Marian nonchalantly strode about the docks, keeping her hawk like eyes on the prowl for anything that might pose a threat to Athenril’s little scheme. The plan was for Athenril and her small band of smugglers to sneak into some warehouse by the port and make off with some cargo. Hawke was simply there to be on hand, security in case things went south. It seemed like a simple plan really, Marian had certainly worked with less during her time with the smugglers.

She idly wondered if she was wise to go along with Athenril’s plan, being Champion had its perks, but she doubted that Aveline would look on her too kindly if she was caught breaking the law. Still, the coin Athenril had put on offer was good, and she did feel like she owed the elf for upping sticks and walking out on the smuggler so suddenly all those years ago. So – to herself at least – Marian was calling this a charitable favour.

It certainly appeared that the smuggler still held something of a grudge towards the Champion, what with the way she’d been scowling at the human most of the time. Which made it all the more suspicious that Athenril had sought Marian out in the first place. Sure, Marian was at least the best swordswoman this side of the Vimmark’s, maybe even in all of Thedas. She also knew what she was doing in a simple operation like this, but there were plenty of other capable sword arms out there for Athenril to count on surely.

Something was off, she just didn’t know what.

That she didn’t know what the elf was after didn’t overly concern the human. She knew Athenril to be pretty ethical in her work and trade, by smuggler standards at least. She never dealt in slaves. That was her number one rule. Marian idly wondered how the redhead and Fenris would get along. Maybe she should introduce them.

She was snapped from her musings by sight of the smuggler stalking her way towards her. She was whispering to a young human girl at her side, the girl barely older than ten, twelve at a push. The elf flicked the girl a gold coin and she scurried off into the shadows. Marian was surprised to see something of a proud smile on the smuggler’s face. It was much more agreeable than the all the scowling. That smile quickly vanished however as she reached the Champion.

“Friend of yours? Daughter perhaps?” Marian quizzed with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Funny.” Athenril drawled. “You sure you’re a Champion, not a comedian?”

The Champion held her hands up in innocence with a light smirk. “Just looks too small to be a smuggler is all. You train them up young, do you?”

Athenril’s gaze snapped back to the human, anger seething from those alien, emerald eyes.

“It’s a damn sight better than living off scraps in the gutter, or being forced into the Pearl at that age. We can’t all be living it up in Hightown with our betters now, can we?”

Marian sighed, silently cursing her mouth. “Listen I … I didn’t mean it like-”

“I’m sure.” The elf cut her off, mind instantly back to the mission. “See any trouble?”

“No. Athenril, can we-”

“Good. Keep your eyes peeled and your head on task, Hawke. I won’t lose this job because of you.” Her tone of voice left no room for argument, and without another word the elf sped off into the shadows.

The Champion sighed again, resolving to just get the job done and be rid of the whole affair. Seeing Athenril again after so long had put her on edge, the sooner this was all over the better.

Another hour passed as Hawke casually patrolled the docks, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. A few guards passed by, but that was nothing to be concerned about, just the usual rounds that Aveline had her men do routinely. Being a semi-regular visitor to the barracks, Marian recognised the men and nodded their way amicably.

Not long after the guards passed, it happened.

A solitary elf, this one male, scurried out of a door, clutching a small, leather bound package to his chest. Marian’s keen gaze followed the elf as he made to weave his way through the passers-by. Marian narrowed her gaze at the man. He appeared far too … edgy, as if broadcasting his intentions to the world. Was this really one of Athenril’s agents? He looked like a rank amateur.

Sure enough, before the elf had managed to get anywhere near the great stone stairs that led out of the docks, a pair of guards had caught on to the elf’s behaviour just as Marian had. The Champion swore quietly to herself, she was hoping to not have to get actually involved, now she had little choice.

_Or do I? I could still walk away, it’s not like I really owe Athenril anything? ... Do I?_

Marian sighed and cursed again as she strode forward quickly to intercept the guards. She kept her sword at her back. There was no way in all of Thedas she was going to use it against good men and women who were just doing their jobs.

“Guardsman!” She called out, her mind scurrying to think of a plan as she did.

The two guards jerked their heads in her direction. The elven man they had been following hadn’t even seemed to notice.

“Champion.” One of the guards inclined his head respectfully “Is something amiss?”

“Yes!” Marian half-lied then froze for a few seconds, Maker it had been a while since she’d done this sort of thing. Was she losing her touch? The two guards exchanged confused glances with each other.

“Thieves!” Marian cried in what she hoped sounded like genuine outrage. “Making off with cargo down the other end of the port!” She pointed the way for good measure.

She glanced back at the true thief for a moment. The elf’s alien eyes widened as he took in the sight of the Champion and the guards. Marian could practically see his mind turning. She knew what he was going to do before he did.

In little over a second, he dropped all pretence and bolted for an alley way.

He didn’t get far.

In his haste, he bowled right into a passing cart, knocking cabbages into the street. Hearing the angry shouts of the cabbage driver, the guards turned to hone in on the amateur thief.

“Hey, you there! Stop!” The guards strode towards him, hands on their swords.

The elf’s eyes seemed to widen almost comically for a moment before he took off again. The guards giving chase close behind.

Marian could hardly believe what she was seeing. This couldn’t be Athenril’s man, surely. The elf used to have some of the best working for her. Groaning to herself, she jogged off in pursuit to try and salvage the situation.

While the elf couldn’t hide his thievery for all coppers in Lowtown, he could certainly run. The guards managed to keep him in sight and stayed hot on his heels, even burdened by their armour and kit. Marian kept her distance, trying to figure out how she could intervene without spilling blood or getting arrested.

The elf led the merry parade through all the back alleys of the docks. He kept glancing over his shoulder in the vain hope that he’d lose his pursuers. After a sharp turn, he leapt onto a ladder leading up to a warehouse roof. The guards quickly followed suit, slowed by the cumbersome armour. Marian hesitated for a moment then took a gamble, ducking through the warehouse doors to try and cut the elf off ahead.

She had to duck and dodge around various workers and crates and things as she went. She heard the irritated yelling of the warehouse foreman in her ears as she barrelled through the doors on the other side. Casting her gaze about, she caught sight of the elf on the roof. He whipped his head around frantically, looking for a viable route.

He must have spotted something, he took off at another angle and Marian had to run fast again just to keep him in sight. The guards yelled and called, just out of sight. The elf moved away from the edge of the rooftops and Marian lost sight of him. She carried on regardless. The sounds of hollering guards guided her in the right direction.

Marian came to a fork in the alleys, the elf above would have to jump to carry on his escape. She heard a small crash from above, pots smashing. An alarmed cry. Her gaze shot up, a dark form fell from above. Marian couldn’t react in time. The elf fell beyond her arms, hitting the ground with a sickening crunch.

The Champion stood there in shock. Blood already pooling to her feet. He barely stirred, his gaze already glossing over.

Footsteps and shuffling from above, Marina raised her gaze to see the guardsmen gazing back down. One of them swore loudly and they moved away to find a way down.

Marian knelt beside the man. she already knew there was nothing to be done. His movements had already weakened to nothing. His moans barely a whisper.

She belatedly realised that he’d dropped the package just a few feet away. Marian cast her gaze about. There was no one about in the alley, the thuds of the guards footsteps grew as they drew closer though. Quickly, she scurried over and scooped up the light package, standing and hiding it behind her back just as the guards approached.

“Maker’s balls,” One of them swore, gazing down at the still warm corpse, “Captain won’t like this.”

“It was his own damn fault.” The other shook his head ruefully. “Stupid knife-ear.”

The first seemed to cough and nudge the other, nodding at Marian. The second took notice of the Champion and shuffled about awkwardly. While Marian was the true celebrity of the City, it was common knowledge that her close friends included elves, and the Captain of the Guard.

The Champion glared her fiercest at the men. “I think you’ve got a job to do, guardsmen. I can’t imagine your Captain would be happy with you chasing a man to his death then leaving him to rot in the street. I wonder what she’d make of all that?”

Marian took a moment of satisfaction watching the guards squirm before they rushed to gather the body. She stayed for a while to make sure they were duly respectful. When they’d gone, she made a mental note to talk to Aveline about the ‘moral fibre’ of some of her guards.

Marian finally turned her attention to the small leather package she still held. It seemed such an ordinary thing. Certainly not worth a life, but that was the price that had been paid.

Now Marian had some leverage, she aimed to get a smuggler to talk.

xxx

Marian snuck through the alleys of Lowtown, re-treading steps she had thought were long forgotten. She didn’t even want to think about how long ago it was that she’d come and gone from here like it was her home. Maker, she was getting old.

The starlight sky offered a little light by which to guide her way. Though in truth, she could probably find her way in complete darkness on muscle memory alone. Soon enough, she found her goal, the loft of a long abandoned factory deep in Lowtown. Well, long abandoned was what it was supposed to look like. For as long as Marian had known the elf, this had been one of Athenril’s many hideouts in the city. This wasn’t even her main base of operations, but very few knew of this place. The elf had always been a little paranoid about sharing her hidey holes with her associates. Marian was certain that she didn’t know about them all, but this was one that she knew Athenril kept secret from all but her closest allies. So Marian wagered that Athenril would soon come looking when her bagman didn’t arrive.

Sure enough, Marian had only to wait an hour before familiar footsteps stalked into the loft. The Champion didn’t turn from the seat she had taken gazing out over the city.

“So,” Athenril began slowly, “I hear Terrion’s dead.”

“So that _was_ your man.” Marian looked back at the redhead. “I didn’t believe it when I saw how he acted at the first sight of the guards. He looked like he had no idea what he was doing.”

The elf scoffed. “Really, you’re mocking a dead man?”

“I’m mocking you.” Marian stood and turned to face the elf fully. “What in Thedas did you think would happen? He was nowhere near ready for even a basic job like that.”

Athenril merely tilted her head, eyes questioning. “I thought you’d left this life for good. Now you’re an expert on smuggling all of a sudden? From what I remember, you didn’t give much thought to the specifics as long as you and your sister were kept safe from prying eyes and got paid.”

Marian ignored the jibe. “What happened, Athenril?” She asked softly, “You used to have some of the best people in the City.”

“You including yourself in that list?” Athenril shook her head with a sly smile. Then she sighed. “If you’re so desperate to know, ever since the Viscount died, the Templars have been taking over. I’m sure even you’ve noticed. Along with your friends in the Guard, they’ve been clamping down on this city. More Templar’s means less room to manoeuvre, less room to manoeuvre means more casualties. More casualties means- well, you get the idea.”

“It can’t be that bad. You can’t have lost everyone, surely?”

Athenril let out a bitter laugh. “That little girl you saw me with earlier? Her and I are all that’s left now, now that Terrion’s out of the picture.”

Marian rubbed the back of her neck with a weary sigh. “I’m sorry. I had no idea things were that bad.”

“I gathered.” Athenril drawled with a roll of her eyes. “But we’ve talked long enough,” She put out an open hand, “The package, Hawke, I know you have it.”

“Are you sure?” Marian narrowed her eyes, the glint off a teasing smirk gracing her lips. “I could have already taken it to the guards for all you know.”

“Don’t!” Athenril snapped, eyes burning fiercely, “I’m not in the mood for your games, Hawke. That package is getting me and her out of this rotten City, and you are going to hand it over.”

Marian gazed into Athenril’s for a long moment with a sigh. “I never could stay on your good side, could I?” She reached down by the chair and picked up the package.

Athenril swiped it from her hands before she could even fully offer it to the smuggler. The elf deftly tossed a bag of coin onto the floor beside Marian. She swiftly turned to leave, but Marian grasped her arm. The elf whipped her head back around, emerald fire in her eyes.

“Let. Go.” The smuggler’s eyes promised murder.

“Athenril, can’t we just talk?” The Champion’s pleaded for peace.

“I’ve nothing to say to you.”

“I’m sorry.” If anything, Athenril glowered even more at Marian’s words. “I’m sorry. I never should have left how I did. If I’d have known how things were gonna turn out for you I’d have …” She trailed off, not really sure what to say.

“You’d have what? Don’t tell me you would have stayed. It was clear as day you wanted out as soon as possible.”

“I had my sister to look out for, Athenril. I know you stuck by us all that time, kept us safe from the Templars. I’m grateful for what you did for us, really, but smuggling isn’t the best way for an apostate to keep her head down.”

Athenril’s gaze softened for a moment. “I get it. I didn’t see her around earlier, she still ok?”

“Beth? She’s … she’s a Grey Warden now.”

Athenril let out a snort. “Wow, a Champion _and_ a Grey Warden in the same family? Some people just have all the luck.”

“Hey! It wasn’t by choice, she nearly died, Athenril.” Marian responded angrily, still not letting go of the elf’s arm. “And being Champion isn’t a picnic too you know.”

“Well, pardon me for speaking ill of my betters.” The smuggler mocked and rolled her eyes.

“For Maker’s sake, Athenril, I never wanted this fame! You know that. I didn’t ask to become Champion. I just wanted to get a bit of money to get comfortable, to keep Bethany safe. To get a home for my family and look after them.”

Athenril turned her gaze away and sighed. “I guess I can believe that much at least. I’m sorry though, about your sister. I know how much she meant to you. She was always a good girl.”

They stood there in silence for a few moments, the only sound the gentle brush of the wind through the loft and the slow creaking of wizened wood. Still though, Marian did not let go of the elf’s arm.

“Let me go, Hawke.” Athenril sounded more tired than anything now.

“Just- just wait a minute.” Marian let go of the elf and was surprised that the smuggler didn’t run at the first opportunity. The Champion reached to the floor for a moment before bringing her pay up. “Here, you could use this more than-”

“No. I’m not taking your charity, Hawke.” Athenril shut Marian down immediately, slapping the coin pouch away.

“It’s not charity, it’s your- Ugh! Just consider it back pay for all the years I’ve missed. Think of your girl, you want her to suffer because of your pride? Take it for her.”

Athenril glared daggers at the Champion, “Maker damn you.” She muttered and reluctantly picked up the coin purse almost like it was diseased.

“I’d offer you more, but I have a feeling you’d sooner stab me.”

“Very wise.”

Marian sighed, “Look, I’m sorry things have turned out like this. Just- If you need a place to stay or, well anything, my door’s always open you know.”

Athenril stared right into the human for a good long moment before shaking her head with a sigh of her own. “No Hawke. I don’t think that’s the best idea.”

The Champion clicked her tongue, “Yeah, I suppose so. Just- please stay safe.”

Athenril sighed once more, “You too, Mari.”

The elf turned to leave, then mumbled something under her breath and swept back, placing one last goodbye on Marian’s lips. The smuggler granted the human one last twitch of her lips. It was almost too easy to believe they were back in those days of danger they’d shared years ago. Hawke idly chewed her lip where the elf’s brief contact lingered.

“This city’s going to hell, you know. I’d get out while you can if I were you.” With that, the smuggler went for the door and vanished into the night.

Marian stayed there for a while after, contemplating under the starry sky. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she should have said something, or done something more, better even. Like a lot of things in her life though, it was just too late.


End file.
